One of the precepts of 80’s movie wisdom is, “Sometimes, you just gotta say what the fuck.”
//pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({
google_ad_client: “ca-pub-1865631319996123”,
enable_page_level_ads: true
});
One of the websites I visit for writing is Re:Fiction. Re:Fiction has interesting articles and writing prompts, and they also have a biweekly newsletter. One of the features of the newsletter is a writing challenge. Sometimes I’ll give them a try, sometimes not, it depends how quickly something pops into my mind. On rare occasion, I’ll even send my attempt.
Writing challenge #22 was one of those occasions. Challenge #22 asked to write a few sentences about the old cat lady, from the perspective of one of her cats.
It just clicked, and that little dark place in my heart skipped a beat in delight. My entry was one Google Doc, a few sentences, and a reply-copy-paste later:
It’s Sunrise. Food Lady usually has the morning bowls ready for the Brothers and Sisters by now. Food Lady just lays there. Still lays there. Food Lady has been there for last two Sunrises. Last two Sunsets. Has missed many Naps and Scratching Petting times. Brothers and Sisters are hungry. Food Lady doesn’t mind when we nibble.
On Tax Day, I received an email from the fine folks at Re:Fiction informing me that I won challenge #22. They announced it in the official newsletter later that day. Used words like “compelling,” “concise,” and “chilling.”
Reminds me of an English assignment Senior year to write a sequel to “A Streetcar Named Desire.” I put together something where Blanche was abducting any guy named Stanley, killing them, and arranging their bodies in her hideout located in the sewers. While Blanche monologued in her hideout, alligators would show up at random times, snatch a body, and noisily devour it off stage. Blanche also killed one of the Stanleys by duct taping his mouth and spraying a can of Fix-A-Flat into his nose, sealing off his lungs.
I think I was running a fever that weekend.
Anyhoo, Mrs. Kubica gave me a B for “A Streetcar Named Desire 2: The Reckoning.” She put a note on my paper explaining it would have been an A, but she graded it while eating lunch.
I was proud of that B. Not because I ruined somebody’s lunch, but because… OK, ya, because I ruined somebody’s lunch. The same way I’m proud of “compelling” and “chilling.”
I got the idea across.
Boy, not that I’m inherently envious, but…. I sure wish I could write something that would ruin someone’s lunch.
Nice post.
TE Mark
LikeLiked by 1 person